The Ghost Walker

We passed each other

Up-raised eyebrow

Imperceptible nod

The subtle muscle spasms

Of recognition

He drifted by

Nimble, insubstantial

Dapper, neat and trim

A light blond ghost

Dressed to daintily disappear

Perhaps he had perfected

His camouflage

A coat hanger

On which men

Could drape their pain

Then with a shake

Would let it fall

And leave it on the ground

The rotting compost

Of pain and shame

Or perhaps

The secrets of too many

Had bleached his sense of life

Disconnected, he had learnt

To blink and disappear

I wondered

As this pale ghost walker

Crossed my path again

My thoughts as unsubstantial

As he